Ghosts
by Xenoglossy
Summary: What makes two people soul mates? What is it that links two people together for eternity? Is is something that can be defined? When love isn't something pleasant or warm, two wandering souls meet again on a rainy evening. (AU, ExSy)


**PRE:** Random Inspiration. Written in about 15 minutes at 1AM on a school night. Go me. I've been reading Wuthering Heights lately, if that explains anything, and for some reason I'm randomly fascinated by the idea that two people who don't particularily enjoy each other's company can be linked together. Or something. I think my ExSy muse was feeling somewhat neglected- you know what I should do... write Cessation.   
Not mine. Ect. Duh.  
  
**Ghosts**  
_ExSy short, Cephied Variable_  
  
It was raining.  
  
Which was the icing on the cake as far as Li Syaoran was concerned. His damn lighter wouldn't spark in the downpour and there wasn't much he could do to salvage the now hopelessly damp cigarette- last in his pack.  
  
He couldn't quite remember when he'd started smoking. Couldn't quite remember when he'd started doing a lot of stupid things, but they were done and over with and it wasn't like he could go back and erase the course his life had taken over the past decade. Smoking had just been a bad habit he had picked up in along the way, running from his past like the idiot he was. Perhaps his greatest fear was the knowledge that the moment he stopped moving was the moment when he would realize there really wasn't anything to run from anymore.  
  
Nevertheless, fault had settled into his bones like a sickness and whenever he chanced to look at his hands- really, truly look in the metaphorical sense- he sould still see the blood working it's way into the creases in his dark skin. All the rain in the world couldn't wash away that stain.  
  
"Conincidence is a difficult thing to define, is it not Xiao Lang?"  
  
A circle of dry enclosed around Syaoran as an umbrella moved to shelter him and he inhaled sharply, flinching at the sickeningly familiar voice. He resolved not to say anything, not this time and never again. He shouldn't have spoken in the first place, so many years ago- this was one particular peace he never should have made.  
  
But he did not move from under the umbrella.  
  
"You haunt the streets like a ghost, Xiao Lang. One of these days I am going to chance upon your ghost and not even realize the difference." a pause. Syaoran distracted himself by attempting to spark his lighter once again, "Does the notion not bother you? Can you really call this living?"  
  
"I don't want to hear it, Hiiragizawa." Syaoran grumbled shortly, his words harsh-cut and spat out of instinct. He hadn't meant to speak, but there was a certain string in his emotional counternance that Eriol knew to strum perfectly. They were so good at playing each other that way.  
  
Without looking he could see the wry grin working it's way up Hiiragizawa'a face. He imagined perfectly the slight angle his dark eyebrow would arch at and he heard the smug 'heh' before it passed through the mage's thin lips. Eriol always laughed at him- laughed, and refused to touch him. This was something that sent Syaoran nearly to the brink because he knew, knew, knew what Eriol wanted and what he was implying with his slow, sly movements- yet he never moved even a finger until Syaoran had already lost control. What could he do?  
  
What he could do was walk away. He'd always been given the option. Ever since that first night- the first moment- when he looked into Eriol's gray eyes and saw something other than superiority. He could have ignored the faint glint in the mage's eyes before he realized it for what it was- an echo of his own soul. He could have turned his eyes away. He could have left before the realization sunk in and he understood what it meant- that he was linked eternally to someone he didn't want.  
  
But what he did do- just like he had always done- was fall into Eriol's embrace. It was natural. Not perfect, nor romantic, nor a warm embrace in any way, form or matter, but it was logical. Syaoran dug his nails into Eriol's thick jacket and pulled him as close as he possibly could, pressing his face into the mage's chest and trying to time his breathing to the tune of Eriol's beating heart.  
  
Who knew? Maybe he was a ghost already, afterall what great amount of living ha he been doing in the past ten years? drifting from city to city and selling his magic to odd deeds and the occasional dirty dealing. Eriol's heartbeat was more real than his could hope to be.  
  
Eriol hardly flinched, but he did smile. Not sarcastic, or knowing, but a geniuine smile. Eriol was a romantic despite his apathetic veneer and dismal realism. He fancied that Syaoran was in love with him. He liked to believe that Syaoran could not do without him- his black magic saviour. He thought they were soul mates, two miserable spirits tied together by a twist of fate, doomed to wander the earth together completed, or apart in disarray. He'd probably decided that Syaoran couldn't help but seek him out and that there was something deep and spiritual in their conincidental meetings.  
  
Syaoran, however, realized the truth.  
  
His life was a life in two parts- his childhood. The days of magic, innocence and Sakura; and there was his life after the event. The nightmares, the regret, the self-loathing. Eriol was simply the thread that tied the two together, yet was also the thread that kept him sane. When Syaoran had noticed this sudden well of need for his former adversary, it was almost more than he could stand.  
  
The worst thing of all was the knowledge that Eriol, and Eriol alone knew the truth.  
  
It's a difficult thing, to know that you've killed a man. However, what's more difficult is living with guilt and never having been punished for your mistakes. This was a pain that Syaoran knew all too well. The death had been classified as accidental. A simple magical miscalculation. Kero had made it sound so clinical, so... so... mathematical. But when the dust settled, a man was dead, Syaoran was forgiven and Eriol seemed to be the only one who had realized the serious implications of the situation. Sakura had wanted to get on with her life; Mistress Li had wanted her son to pretend nothing had even happened in the first place. Eriol was the only one to look him in the eye and say: "What you've done, Xiao Lang, is a very serious and morally reprehensible thing. If you are expecting kind words and sympathetic overtures, you will not find them in me."  
  
If Li Syaoran was indeed in love with Eriol Hiiragizawa, those were the words that had caused him to fall. But as it was, their relationship was a bit more complicated than any proclaimation of romantic love could communicate. Simply: Eriol was truth, and Syaoran breathed in that truth like the air and Syaoran was battered by the truth like the wind.  
  
Finally, the umbrealla clattered to the ground and Eriol returned the desperate grasp. It was funny, to think that someone like Eriol could need someone like him. What was even funnier was the notion that althought Eriol kept his actions veiled in layers and shadows and lies, Syaoran could see right through him.  
  
Who knew? Perhaps they were soul mates.  
  
_pause_  
  
**POST:** O.O I'm... not sure if I like this or not. Really, really not sure if I like this or not. Do you like it? Should I finish Cessation? Was this an interesting plot bunny? Wow, I think this just might suck. ;;  
  
- Cephied Variable, 13/05/04, 1:16AM 


End file.
